


A House Full of Memories

by KimberlyFDR



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyFDR/pseuds/KimberlyFDR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had a home, a partner who loved him, and a future that was theirs to experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A House Full of Memories

Sunlight filtered through the partly-drawn curtains of the bedroom. Still half-asleep and hoping that he could persuade his lover into postponing the start of the day, Starsky reached out to the other side of the bed. Instead of warm, smooth skin he only felt the cool, crisp sheets of absence. He groaned, opening one eye to make sure his deduction was correct. Indeed it was. A lazy Saturday morning where he could have done who knows what to his partner and Hutch wasn't even there.

The sounds of kids playing drifted through the slightly open window. Starsky begrudgingly pushed himself out of bed and over to the window. He stood to the side so as not to give the neighbors an unwarranted peep show of his nakedness in all its morning glory. Peering out at the yard below he could see the Nelson boys next door playing cops and robbers in the early morning sun. He pulled the window closed, drawing the curtains as well. Turning back to the disorder of the bedroom, he stretched himself to get rid of the kinks that had come with the tumultuous night. The creaks in the old bed frame were beginning to be rivaled by the creaks in the bodies of him and his lover. With one last sigh, he grabbed a pair of jeans from the dresser, along with a shirt, and went to the bathroom.

A hot shower was just what he needed to work out his muscles. Dropping his clothes on the counter, he started running the shower to build up a little steam in the enclosed room. Looking around the small bathroom, he could tell that Hutch had come and gone already this morning. The razor and shaving cream were still out. His comb was laid on the side of the sink, the toothpaste and toothbrush joining it, and his robe was hung on the back of the door. Starsky remembered when he had bought Hutch that robe. It was blue and made of a very soft material. Starsky thought it would look great next to Hutch's smooth skin.

_"A robe?" Hutch asked, peering at the contents of the box._

_"Yes, a robe," Starsky repeated as he brought the clothing out of its container, smiling. "It matches your eyes."_

_Hutch had to smile at that, too. "Well, thanks." He crushed some of the material in his hand, feeling the softness of it. "My old one's worn out and I hardly ever wear it anymore."_

_"I know, and that's why I bought you this one. Give you something to put on when you're going out to get the paper so you don't scare the neighbors."_

_"I never heard any complaints from you before," Hutch laughed, grabbing a quick kiss. _

_"Oh, no complaints," Starsky smiled back. "Just means I get to unwrap my present every night."_

The steam from the shower pulled him out of the memory. He quickly got in, cleaning himself and clearing the sleepiness from his mind. The hot water felt good as he kneaded his tired muscles. Hutch often teased him about being older than himself, but then again they were both getting older. They couldn't leap tall buildings in a single bound or take down a suspect as quickly in a foot chase as they had when they were in their twenties, but that really didn't seem to matter anymore since those days were behind them.What mattered was the here and now, the life that they had built. Everything else was just window dressing, not as important if it was lost or diminished.

After only ten minutes under the water he was soothed and ready to start the day. Turning off the spray, he toweled himself off and put on his clothes. Walking back through the bedroom he just shook his head at the disarray. Clothes yanked off last night were scattered across the floor, the lube had missed the bedside table and lay beside the bed, and sheets torn from their tucked corners were barely lying on the mattress. Starsky thought about cleaning the room, but thought again. He'd deal with it later, when the sun and the prospect of finding Hutch didn't tantalize him.

Starsky walked out of their bedroom and past the guest bedroom. They had fixed it up to accommodate their friends and family in case any of them wanted to take up the open invitation extended to them. Hutch's sister had come out a few times and she always stayed with them. They had managed to get Starsky's mother to join them for a week and she fell in love with the house immediately. It had made Starsky feel good when she reveled in the beauty of the home they had created.

_"Oh, Davey, look at this place!" his mother exclaimed when she entered the house. "It's beautiful!"_

_Starsky ducked his head a little as he carried her bags into the house. "I told you it was. Looks better than it did when we first got it, but we knew it was what we wanted and we did a lot of work on it." He set the bags down once they were both inside the house._

_" It's gorgeous. From what I've seen," she teased, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. _

_"Is that a subtle hint that you'd like to see the rest of it?" Starsky chuckled. "Okay, but first let me get you settled in your room." He picked the bags up again and led her up the stairs . "There were three bedrooms upstairs, so we took the master, made another a guest room, and turned the third into an art room," he explained. The door to the guest room was already open, so he motioned her inside._

_She entered, taking in the layout. They had furnished the guest bedroom rather modestly, but functionally. There was a double bed and dresser along with a rocking chair and nightstand. The walls had seemed bare when they were fixing the room, so Hutch convinced Starsky to put up three framed photographs that he had taken on one of their vacations. His mother zeroed in on them and was looking at it. _

_"That's a wonderful picture," she motioned towards the print that hung above the dresser. It was a picture of the shoreline, waves breaking hard against the sand as an unknown couple in the distance ran from the advancing waters._

_"It's one of my favorites," he said, smiling. "I took it when we were over at Ocracoke. It was the first black and white that I took that I was satisfied with. The shadows and light worked in it."_

_His mother turned, a look of surprise on her face. "You did this?"_

_He nodded." I did all these. Hutch likes my pictures, so he's managed to decorate the house with a lot of them. _

Starsky was warmed by the memory as he walked towards the art room. That's what they had dubbed it early on. The room was their refuge of creativity. Hutch's canvases and paints sat in one corner while his guitar occupied another. All of Starsky's photography equipment was in there, including a bathroom darkroom. A few of the prints that had accumulated over the years decorated the walls of the room, along with a particularly haunting canvas that Hutch had done. It had been inspired by the photo that hung on the opposite wall. Starsky had taken a picture of an older couple sitting on a park bench, their faces shaded while the light caught their hands in a tight grasp. The veins of their hands could be seen clearly and one got the feeling that this was an old, forever love that would last long past the time when they left their physical bodies. When he'd first seen the print, Starsky had been taken aback at what he'd managed to capture.

_Hutch sat at his easel, trying to shade a particular tree just right and not succeeding to his standards. Starsky sat in the overstuffed chair in the corner of the art room, going over the proof sheet that he had just finished developing. His eyes stopped at one particular image._

_He remembered taking the picture, remembered the day as though it were yesterday. He had been walking through the park, trying to snap a few shots of the foliage in different lights. He was looking through his lens to compose a good angle on a tree when he saw them. On the bench just under the tree an older couple sat, oblivious to the activity around them. They seemed to be simply enjoying the day, enveloped in one another's company. Struck by the scene without knowing why, Starsky just knew that he had to have a picture of them. He went over and asked their permission, which was quickly given._

_The shot was magical. The tree shaded their faces just enough to soften their features and take the focus off of them. Instead, the light drew attention to their hands. The veined, aged hands were clasped together in such a tight embrace that one wondered if they would disappear if they unlocked. The love between these two people seemed to pour from the shot._

_"Hutch," Starsky barely whispered. He tried again. "Hutch."_

_"Hmm?" Hutch asked as he continued to brush at the tree._

_"Come here for a minute."_

_"Hold on." Hutch paused, then gave up in exasperation and laid the brush down. "Stupid tree," he mumbled as he walked over to Starsky._

_"Look at this," Starsky said, handing over the picture._

_Hutch took the print and looked at it. "Wow, Starsk, this is fantastic," he breathed. "Look at their hands;, they've got such a love in those hands." He handed it back to his partner. "That's a really good shot." _

_"Yeah," Starsky agreed, looking at the picture again. He paused, thinking, then continued when he looked up into his lover's face. "I want us to be them, I wanna know that we're gonna be that old and the world will know how in love we are by just looking at us." _

_"I think they can already tell that." Hutch smiled, leaning down for a kiss. "We don't hide it; no reason to."_

_"I know," Starsky said. "I just hope we live a long time and have that forever love." With that, he began to go through the remaining shots._

_Hutch took one more glance at his partner before going back to his canvas._

Starsky looked at the canvas that adorned the opposite wall from his prints. He hadn't known what Hutch was creating while it was in progress; was just told that it was a surprise. Starsky wasn't allowed in the art room while he was painting it and it was covered whenever Hutch finished for the night. It took three months, but finally it was done and Hutch presented it to Starsky. It was the most magnificent piece Starsky had ever seen. There were two older men who bore a striking resemblance to Starsky and Hutch, but these men were at least in their seventies. The men were dancing, lips together in a kiss that lasted all night. Their faces were done in muted tones, but their clasped hands were very detailed in showing the age and time of these two souls. This was them, his vision of their forever love come to life. Hutch had captured exactly what Starsky was thinking. The canvas was hung the next day with the photo on the opposite wall. They made this room their refuge from the harsh world, their muse in inspiration. He had a forever love in the flesh, but he also had the vision of the future set out in artwork.

Starsky quietly closed the door, engulfed in the memories. He made his way downstairs. The light in the living room had been left on, so he went in to turn it off. Looking around, he wondered if he shouldn't try to clean up a little from last night. They had ordered pizza and watched a mind-numbing movie on television. That always led to kissing, feeding each other, groping, and heated sex before the movie was even half over. Last night had been no exception, much to Starsky's delight. The aftermath wasn't as bad as the bedroom, but it was still messy.

The pizza box lay open on the coffee table, the three remaining slices dried out and cold. Their plates and empty soda bottles sat beside it. The television had been hastily turned off in their mad dash last night, so that was a start. Usually the electric bill showed evidence of their forgetfulness to turn off lights and television in the race towards the bedroom. He picked up the magazines that lay strewn on the floor surrounding the couch. He couldn't blame Hutch for that one. Starsky was the one who had made that mess. He had been trying to clean out the old magazine rack, since it was beginning to overflow. Instead of just throwing the old ones out, however, he'd started rereading them. Two hours later, Hutch came in with the pizza and found the cleaning had not only not been done, but the mess was increasing. He simply sighed and welcomed his partner onto the couch and into his arms.

After returning the magazines to the overcrowded rack, Starsky picked up the pizza box and went to discard its contents in the kitchen, along with the plates and bottles. There were no breakfast dishes in the sink, so he guessed that Hutch hadn't already eaten. He thought for a moment about grabbing something, but decided against it. It was still early; there was time for breakfast later. He went back to the living room to survey how much more needed to be done. Noticing that the record player still held a record, he took it off the turntable. Starsky put the record back into its sleeve. They had spent part of yesterday morning dancing in each other's arms. There was nothing that [had] particularly inspired it. Hutch had simply been listening to a record while in the living room and Starsky had wandered in.

_Seeing his lover stretched out on the couch with head thrown back and eyes closed almost took Starsky's breath away. This man, this person whom he spent his life with, was someone who could constantly surprise him and inspire him. _

_In his best Southern drawl, which for Starsky was not good at all, he came up to the couch and asked, "Can I have this dance?"_

_Hutch simply laughed and put out his hand to be led onto the dance floor. They inhaled each other's presence, essence, knowing that they were two bodies and one soul._

_"I love you," Hutch breathed as he stretched his arms around his partner._

_"I know," Starsky said as he smiled. "But you can never say it enough. I love you, too."_

The record was slipped back into its place among the others. Satisfied that there wasn't anything else that looked pressing, he left the room and started down the hall towards the back of the house. He thought about passing by the library altogether, but something drew him in. In the darkness there was nothing that stood out. Starsky flipped the lights on, still puzzled by the pull. The fireplace sat unlit, the chairs unused. Starsky walked around the book-lined walls, trailing his fingers over certain volumes. Their tastes were eclectic; he could say that. A copy of 'Heart of Darkness' sat next to '101 Ways To Be Wealthy.' Starsky had given up around number thirty-seven, declaring that what wasn't illegal in the book was immoral or just plain impossible.

He took one last look around, ready to leave, when he caught sight of it. Starsky walked over to the mantle above the fireplace. Jake's picture was turned away from its usual position. Starsky picked up the gold frame to look at the young man one more time. This was one of the only pictures Starsky had seen of Hutch's older brother. Jacob Theodore Hutchinson stood smiling back at him on the high school football field in a letterman jacket. It was one of the last pictures of Jake ever taken. The first time he saw it had been in Hutch's apartment.

_Hutch walked away from Starsky and took the frame off the bookcase. He held the golden frame, looking at his brother. "You never know what you've got until it's gone."_

_Starsky came up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Who's this?" he asked quietly._

_"This was—is my brother, Jake." Starsky stiffened beside him, and Hutch turned to look at his friend. "Never knew I had one of those, did you?" He let out a broken laugh, looking back at the picture. "Sometimes it feels like I'm forgetting, but I don't wanna forget. I don't ever want to forget." _

_Starsky nodded, taking in the news without comment. He looked at the picture again more closely. "That's your jacket," Starsky said as he noticed the jacket Jake was wearing._

_"It was his before it was mine," Hutch explained, never taking his eyes off the photograph. "I idolized him; my family idolized him. He was the firstborn son and I was the middle child. There was no way I could compete with that. But it didn't matter to Jake. He loved me; he let me tag along whenever I wanted. When he left for college he gave me that jacket and told me to keep it safe until he came back." Hutch looked back up at Starsky, eyes filling with a few tears. "I've been keeping it safe for twenty years, but he never came back."_

_Starsky pulled the blond into his arms, crushing him in a hug. "Tell me. I'm here, just tell me." He released his grip after a final squeeze, letting the other man step back a little._

_"It's his birthday tomorrow," Hutch began again, looking at the picture, then at the wall. "I can't believe I almost let it slip by without noticing. Sometimes I feel like I'll never forget and sometimes I feel like the days are just erasing more and more of him."_

_"Was he young when he—?" Starsky trailed off, not wanting to say the word._

_"Jake was only nineteen," Hutch sighed, replacing the picture and looking back at Starsky. "He was celebrating his birthday and the funny thing was, he hadn't been drinking." Hutch walked back towards the couch and sat down. Starsky followed and sat next to him. "There was no reason for him to have run off the road. It was a clear, sunny day, with nothing to cause it. But for some reason, he slammed on his brakes and skidded off the road and into the trees." Hutch glanced up at his friend. "The cops thought it might have been a deer or something that came out into the road and Jake was avoiding it. Really, who cared? Whatever it was didn't matter. He was gone and he was never coming back!"_

_"It's okay," Starsky said as he gripped the blond's leg. "You can let it out, I'm here."_

_"My mother thought I wasn't coping well because I didn't want to give up the jacket. I convinced her that it was my way of remembering him, so she didn't push. I wore that thing through high school and even into college. I still wear it today, like it'll bring him back."_

_"It's your way of remembering your brother. There's nothing wrong with that," Starsky assured him._

_"Yeah, remembering is fine. But when Jake died, I had to step up, I had to be the only son. Jake went to college; I had to go to college. Jake was going to go into pre-med, I had to go into pre-med. They could never understand why I dropped out my second year. They didn't see that I couldn't be Jake. I had already outlived him by then and I couldn't live in his shadow anymore because it was killing me."_

_"So you left," Starsky observed._

_"I ran as far as I could get. I made a life, a life that had nothing to do with Jake, but a life that's been lived in his shadow and I can't get out of it. No matter what I do, it's never going to bring him back."_

_"Don't try to live up to him, live for him. Do the things he could never do, could never see, could never experience. Live a life that makes you happy and it'll make Jake happy," Starsky told him._

_"I don't wanna forget him, but I don't wanna take anything for granted. We're never guaranteed tomorrows, so today's pretty important," Hutch said as he looked at Starsky._

Starsky set the gold frame back onto the mantle. He had to find Hutch, had to tell him how important all this was to him. Starsky left the library with one last glance around, shutting off the lights. He walked back through the kitchen and paused at the back door. Opening it, he saw where his lover had been. Hutch was in the backyard weeding one of the flower beds. Starsky smiled as he walked down the steps and across the yard. He had a home, a partner who loved him, and a future that was theirs to experience.

Hutch looked up from his weeding, hearing Starsky's approach towards him. He smiled at his lover, walking towards him in the early morning sun. He stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants and hands, and dropping the trowel back on the ground.

"Hey, sleepyhead. What have you been up to this morning?" he asked, smiling. He leaned in for a kiss and was greeted with a deep and lingering one. When they parted he looked into Starsky's eyes.

"Just reliving some old memories," Starsky said, smiling back at Hutch's curious glance. "Come on," he urged, pulling Hutch back down to the garden. "I'll help you weed."


End file.
